


if only you knew

by Alemantele



Series: count down the days [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M, TW Suicide mention, also kind of one sided percico, er general death themes because nico
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:59:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3097388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alemantele/pseuds/Alemantele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy finds him, three hours later, standing by the railing on the Golden Gate Bridge. Standing by the railing on the Golden Gate Bridge on the wrong side. And it’s the scariest thing he’s ever seen. And Nico stands there, the wind in his hair, staring out at the horizon with something written in the lines of his face that Percy doesn’t even want to think about. </p><p>In which Nico has issues (as always) and Percy just doesn't understand (also as always).</p>
            </blockquote>





	if only you knew

**Author's Note:**

> So what if Nico could see when people died?

Percy finds him, three hours later, standing by the railing on the Golden Gate Bridge. Standing by the railing on the Golden Gate Bridge on the wrong side. And it’s the scariest thing he’s ever seen. And Nico stands there, the wind in his hair, staring out at the horizon with something written in the lines of his face that Percy doesn’t even want to think about. 

Before he knows it, his legs are running, his feet coming down hard on concrete. The sun’s shining from behind the arches of the bridge and Percy wants to close his eyes. He doesn’t, though, because he’s afraid that if he does, the next time he opens them again, Nico will be gone. So Percy runs, because there’s nothing else he can do. 

He’s two feet away (close enough that he breathes a little easier, far enough that he still wants to reach out) when Nico abruptly turns, looks down at him with death in his eyes. 

Percy wishes he meant that a little less literally, though he has a feeling that if Annabeth were here she’d tell him what word he means to use instead of literally because it doesn’t quite feel right. Percy wishes he meant that a little less vividly, a little less like Nico meant it, a little less painfully. But. Whatever. Nico turns to look at him with death in his eyes and it’s a chilling stare that knocks the breath right out of Percy’s lungs. 

“What do you want, Jackson?” Nico calls out, his voice deceptively light. 

Percy crushes his teeth together, feels his resolve in the set of his jaw. “What are you doing, Nico?” he asks. 

Nico scoffs, breaking the stare and bracing his arms on the railing. He’s standing on it, too, and Percy had to look up to meet his eyes. 

“Nothing,” Nico says to the ocean across from him. His mouth is set in a hard line. 

“Well stop doing it,” Percy says, fully aware of how lame he sounds. He’s aware of the fact that he had something to say, for once, but he can’t think of anything anymore. 

Nico snorts, softly, tilts his head upwards. 

There is a brief silence, and Percy looks around him helplessly, wonders why nobody says anything. It’s not the Mist, because there is nothing fantastical about a boy on the wrong side of a bridge, but the people walk around them like there’s something there they don’t want to be a part of. Percy’s not stupid, and he’d like to think he’s not naïve, but he thought that some people were better than this. 

“She was going to die anyways,” Nico says, and Percy hates that he’s not the one who breaks the silence between them. Percy hates how he couldn’t bring himself to make the first move. 

Percy doesn’t say I know even though he does, and doesn’t say it doesn’t matter because it does. He says, “How do you know that?” because he hates this so so much and the look on Nico’s face is only terrifying because it is so void of all emotions. 

Nico looks down again, stares hard at Percy, and doesn’t say a word. 

He doesn’t have to, not really, because they both know that it’s utter bullshit, what Percy’s just said. To hell with it. “You still could’ve done something,” Percy says. He knows, logically, that he shouldn’t be saying this. That he shouldn’t be arguing with Nico—still standing very much on the wrong side of the railing—and that it’s a pointless argument they’ve have many many times before. But. “You didn’t have to just—just let her die like that!” Percy shouts, the words pressed up tight in his chest and there’s nowhere else but out for them to go. 

“Well what could I have done?” Nico’s voice is both sudden and biting. There is no taste of sarcasm in his tone, and Percy reels back at how unfamiliar this is. He is still staring into Percy’s eyes, and Percy is not a literary hero or a son of Aphrodite so he can’t quite read anything in Nico’s dark irises. Still. Anyone could see that Nico was pissed. 

“Lots of things!” Percy gestures with his arm, sweeping out widely as if he could represent all the things he wishes he could do with just a wave of his arm. “You wouldn’t even let us try and heal her—did you really think the quest was that important?” 

Nico scoffs. “If there was a chance of saving her, I’d have let you.” 

And, well, Percy’s always hated prophecies, ever since he was 12 and he learned that he’d have the weight of the world on his back because of one. Percy hates people telling what he can and can’t do. He hates the feeling of being trapped, hates passing on that knife to somebody else, hates watching people die and being told that it was meant to be. “Let me?” he asks, his voice calm like ocean waters are calm. “Let me?” 

Nico looks startled for about half a second, then his features smooth over into a passive stare that sets Percy’s nerves on end again. 

“And who the fuck are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?” Percy says, too far gone to care. “I could’ve done something! Talked to her, made her feel like she wasn’t being left behind! I don’t give a flying fuck about your problems, Nico di Angelo, but can’t you find it in your cold dead heart to comfort a 14 year old girl when she’s dying?” 

“I’m sorry,” Nico says, sarcasm dripping from his words, and there is the Nico that Percy has known for so long, “I wasn’t aware that I had to care about each and every person that I see die every-fucking-day. Or maybe I’m just not allowed to insinuate that the almighty son of Poseidon can’t do something? ” 

“The least you can do is try!” Percy almost screams, too far gone at this point to remember that he is not supposed to be getting into another argument with Nico, not now. 

Nico’s grip tightens on the railing, and his eyes widen. “Why should I?” he asks, his voice trembling almost as much as the cables on the bridge above. “Why should I give a fuck anymore? You do realize you’re asking me to shoulder the burden of all this—” here Nico flings out his hands wildly, and for a brief, terrifying, moment, Percy is certain he is about to fall “—right? Tell me right now why I should care!” 

Percy stares hard at how Nico’s hands come to rest very very lightly on the railing. Too lightly. He looks at the wind still ruffling Nico’s dark hair and thinks of the swaying ocean currents below. “For someone who claims to not care at all,” he says, slowly, deliberately, “you sure care a lot right now.” 

Nico stares at him some more. Blinks. His fingers twitch on the cold metal. 

“Nico,” Percy starts, hoping his voice sounds gentle. “Caring doesn’t have to always hurt.” 

“That’s what you say,” Nico says, trembling more now. He throws his head back and laughs. “Percy Jackson, that is something only you could ever say.” 

Percy furrows his brows. “I don’t—”

“Understand?” Nico cuts in, leaning forwards so his stomach is bent over the rail. “Of course you don’t.” He laughs again, rocking back on his heels. 

“Nico…” 

Nico grins slightly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “If only you knew, Percy.” Percy’s name sounds strange the way Nico says it. Foreign. Nico says his name too softly. 

Then, his grin slowly fades, until Nico is staring somewhere to the left of Percy’s face with a small wistful smile on his face. 

Percy notices he’s let go of the railing too late. 

Nico pitches back, and then he is falling. 

 

* * *

Later, Percy only remembers the roaring of water in his gut and reaching out a hand to please please please pull him back. The water responds to his touch, meeting Nico hallway in his fall. It cocoons him in shimmering water, and Nico’s smile never fades once. 

When Percy pulls him from the ocean, wet and shivering, Nico’s grinning again. 

“Why did you do that!” he shouts, running his hands over Nico’s body, trying to see if he screwed up or not, if maybe there’s a broken rib from all the rushing water, if maybe Percy hadn’t let him down gently enough. “Are you telling me that you’re stupid enough to even consider…consider offing yourself?” he yells. 

Nico coughs, tucks damp hair behind his ears. “I don’t die today,” he simply says. 

Later, Percy will remember staring at this waterlogged boy with laughter in his eyes and almost wishes that he was actually trying to do it. 

He thinks about what would happen if he wasn’t there, if they hadn’t argued, if he hadn’t reacted in time to save him. If and if and if and Percy stares at Nico and wonders how he can live this way.  


End file.
